


I’m Sorry (That I Fell In Love Tonight)

by Amortentia_Zarry



Series: Hard Feelings [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Feelings, Gen, Heartbreak, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Realisation, Suppressed Anger, Unrequited Love, depressed character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amortentia_Zarry/pseuds/Amortentia_Zarry
Summary: Because when he saw the furrowed crease between Harry's brows, as his face contorted into a look of worry, all he had wanted to do was kiss it away. And that wasn't normal.At all.





	I’m Sorry (That I Fell In Love Tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> It seems my fics are just getting even more depressing. Forgive me, I'm about as fucked up as it gets.
> 
> Unbeta'd.
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter nor do I own any of the characters in it. Full credit goes to J. K. Rowling. This is purely a work of fiction.
> 
> Enjoy:)
> 
> -Savannah

No one seemed to pay attention to anything he said.

It was almost as though he was speaking to thin air. As soon as the words left his lips, they seemed to get trapped in the air and dissolve into nothing. 

Nothing...was also a good way to descibe how Ron felt most of the time lately. A dull numbness that seemed to spread with every passing second like poison. It was poison. Dark venom slithering through his veins at an alarming speed, furious. Furious because the only time he felt anything at all besides nothing, he felt anger. With every pitying glance and every whispered comment or sneer, he felt anger. Bubbling up like magma. He was a ticking time bomb that was waiting to explode, he took every comment and comparison, bottled it up inside of him, fuel to the flames that were slowly engulfing him and filling him up inside, growing larger and larger, until...

"Can someone please fucking listen to me!?" He errupted. He was standing now. Pale skin turned crimson. Fists clenched tight and pressing against the hard mahogany of the table.

All speech halted around him and silence hung in the air like a dark cloud. The atmosphere thick with shock.

Every single head around the table was turned to face him, aghast. 

The shock disintergrated into tension and it blanketed the room like a fog.

A gentle, firm hand was placed on the lower part of his back, and like the grounding force it had become for him, the anger quickly diffused out of him like a gas.

"Ron?" His voice was soft and questioning.

A deep sigh left Ron's lips before he turned to face the person of whom the musical voice belonged.

Harry's face was pulled into an expression of deep concern, thick eyebrows furrowed and a sadness in his glassy, spring-bud green eyes. Ron could barely stand to look at those beautiful eyes and know that he was the reason for the pain in them. He turned a ghastly white as what he'd done began to sink in and he slowly gravitated back to reality.

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispered. His voice was barely audible. He spun around to face the rest of the people gathered around the table, still deathly silent. "To all of you...I'm sorry."

And just like that he was racing out of the room, his mind only focused on the fact that he needed to get out. To get away.

He heard a voice call out for him.

"Ron!" 

It sounded faintly like Hermione's. But he didn't stop.

He just needed to get away.

~

Sometimes, Ron needed time to be alone. Time to sit back and reflect. 

To breathe.

Right now he needed nothing more than to catch his breath. His mind was whirling with an endless array of thoughts, like a tornado, stabbing at his sanity and eating away at his subconscious. 

The image of Harry's face after his outburst was haunting him. He hadn't meant to make him sad. He never wanted to make Harry sad. It was like taking a knife and plunging it into his own heart.

And that was only part of the problem. 

Because when he saw the furrowed crease between Harry's brows, as his face contorted into a look of worry, all he had wanted to do was kiss it away. And that wasn't normal. 

At all.

Nor was the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about the gentle way Harry spoke to him or the way his eyes sparkled so gorgeously in the light. Or how much he wanted to hear him laugh right then because he had the most beautiful laugh, anything to make that sad look disappear and...Ron was going out of his mind.

Seeing Harry like that shouldn't have affected him so much, best friend or not. 

But it did.

And it scared him. It scared him so much, that he was on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

What was he going to do?

He was in love with his best friend. 

He was in love with Harry.

~

There are some people who might call him impulsive. Some who might say that he doesn't think of the consequences that his actions might bring forth. There are also some who might merely base all this on plain and utter stupidity.

Ron might be inclined to agree with the latter.

Because even as he got up from where he had been sat for the past eight hours, in the middle of some muggle city, in some part of the world, where there were great machines that zoomed past him on long, winding concrete paths. When the tears had no longer blurred his vision, he realised they were cars. And that was pretty cool.

Muggles were pretty cool.

And Ron was still pretty fucked up. And right now he needed to find Harry. Needed to find his best friend and tell him that it took him a while to figure it out, but it's him. It's always only ever been him. And he gets that now. 

He loves him.

Ron doesn't normally like to use apparition, not since he got splinched when they were trying to escape from the ministry during the war. But right now, he can't think about that. Can't think about anything that isn't to do with Harry and how he needs to get to him.

And suddenly he's back at Grimmauld Place, in the centre of the hall, because he can get through the wards. 

It's quiet.

Night has already fallen.

Everyone seems to be gone.

And that's fine. In fact it's more than fine. Because it's all starting to kick in now. It's the nerves and sweaty palms. It's his heart thudding in his chest. It's thirteen years of friendship and a war behind them. 

And then it's him walking towards the sound of glass breaking and laughter ringing in his ears. 

And Harry is pressed up against one of the kitchen cupboards with his legs wrapped around a waist- a man's waist- and arms around a neck. And he's laughing in a way that, in the thirteen years that they've been friends, Ron's never seen him do. 

The head of the mystery man moves, and then Ron is staring at the undeniably definitive features of Draco Malfoy and his heart sinks. And Harry looks so happy. So, so happy.

And then they're kissing.

His heart is breaking.

His heart is broken.

He can't breathe.

And to think that all he'd wanted to say are the words that come tumbling out of Draco's mouth, 

"Harry, it's always been you."

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment or give me any sort of feedback really.
> 
> Tumblr: https://amortentia-zarry.tumblr.com


End file.
